If This Is a Test
by Edward's Josie Black
Summary: Set before the HOF chapter in Rhiannon Leigh Black's I Wanna Be A Rock Star. John is drunk. He and his girlfriend need to have a chat. But does she have the courage to tell him of her demons, and will he agree to her request? Cena/OC


**A/N: This is because there was a huge jump between chapters in Rhiannon Leigh Black's I Wanna Be A Rock Star. And because said jump went from Leesie agreeing to talk to John once he sobered up to them both being fine and dandy and making out in public, I had to write my own bit of filler. Just 'cause I'm OCD like that. And because I love writing fictional!Leesie/John. ^-^ And just so you know, the last name thing got really irritating really quickly. I couldn't do it.**

**If This Is A Test…**

"Chris…Would you mind?"

Leesie sighed. Chris rolled his eyes.

"Of course. I get stuck dragging the ape over to the couch."

Chris grabbed the passed-out John Cena under the arms and began the task of dragging him toward the sofa at the other end of the room.

"Nahhh, there's fine."

Leesie was regarding her boyfriend with disappointment. Chris looked up at her.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not. I can't believe he did that. Seriously, just leave him there until I decide what to do with him. As long as he's out of the way."

Jericho shrugged.

"If you say so. I'm going to get dressed…assuming you'll be okay looking after Cena on your own."

Leesie sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at John darkly.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Get some clothes on."

"Okay. I'll be right back, then," the Canadian said, retreating into the bathroom.

Once he was gone, Leesie grabbed a pillow and knelt by John's head.

"I don't know what you were thinking…" she whispered.

He twitched as she brushed a hand across his cheek. The next instant, he was staring up at her with bloodshot eyes.

"Leesie?"

She nodded.

"Come on…d'you think you can make it to the bed without injuring yourself or--"

He sat up and embraced her tightly, leaving her unable to complete her sentence.

"John. That…Let _go_," she insisted, trying to push him away.

"I'm sorry, babe…" he slurred.

She tried not to breathe. Fortunately, the grip he had on her made that easy.

"Johnathan Felix Anthony Cena!" she gasped. "I…can't…breathe."

"I'll do anything…let me make it up to you…"

"CHRIS!" she shouted, and it came out much softer than she'd intended.

Nonetheless, Chris, shirtless and with his belt unbuckled, opened the door to see what the matter was. Upon assessing the situation, he slapped John enough to shock him into releasing the woman he was unwittingly depriving of oxygen.

"Get off her. Now," Chris commanded.

Leesie backed away from John as she tried to catch her breath.

"Ouch," she said faintly, wincing.

"Here we go, Junior. Into the bed…"

With some difficulty, Chris managed to assist John in climbing into bed. Leesie watched blankly, her face frozen in astonishment.

"You okay?" Chris asked, once it was certain John was settled.

She stared ahead with wide eyes.

"He hurt me," she whispered.

Chris swallowed and sat beside her on the bed.

"How bad is it?"

"My ribs and back are sore…I'll probably be all right. But still…I can't believe…"

"He's drunk, Leesie," Chris said in an attempt to comfort her. "He doesn't have complete control over his actions."

"I know," she said sadly. "That's what worries me. Why…?"

She sat in silence for some time, staring off into space while Chris silently wished he knew what to say. It was fifteen minutes before the door swung open, heralding the arrival of Tina.

"Sorry it took so long, but everything's set…"

Chris stood to greet the mother of his child, while Leesie remained frozen.

"Wait…why is _he_ here?"

"He tried to jump Rynne because he thought she was Leesie."

"…wow."

"Apparently the poor guy's a wreck."

"I can see that."

"Leesie's going to talk to him when he's better."

Tina walked into the room and addressed the bassist.

"What happened between you two?"

Leesie shook her head.

"It was nothing…just my issues…until…"

Tina could tell by Leesie's face that something was definitely wrong. The latter took a shaky breath.

"Tina…he…he went to hug me, to beg me not to leave him…and…he _hurt_ me."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then Tina spoke.

"Chris…would you excuse us, please?"

"No," he said flatly.

She turned around to face him, and met his gaze beseechingly.

"Please, Chris?"

"No. He's drunk, Tina. Just look at the shape Leesi--"

"I _know_. That's why you have to give us a moment."

"I'm not going anywhere. Why don't you two go out into the hall? I'll babysit Cena."

"Christopher Irvine."

"What?" he questioned defensively.

"I need to talk to Leesie. Alone. We'll be fine. We'll even holler if he wakes up if it makes you happy."

Chris looked at her in disbelief.

"Did you just say 'holler'?"

"Yes, I did. Now go."

She pointed to the door.

"I'm not leaving you."

"Oh, for God's sake," she snapped. "Go sit on the balcony, then. Just get out of the room so we can talk."

"You promise you'll let me know if he wakes up?"

"Yes. Now go."

"Fine…"

With that, Chris walked outside and onto the balcony, where he leaned against the railing. Once he'd turned around, Tina sat next to Leesie on the bed.

"Leesie, I'm sure he didn't mean--"

"I know he didn't."

"He just…I really think he was just worried. He doesn't want to lose you. Chris said--"

"I know what Chris said, Tina. The point is that he's drunk and he hurt me, and…" she trailed off, hugging her knees to her chest, as tears sprang to her eyes.

Tina wrapped an arm around the bassist's shoulders.

"It's going to work out. I'm sure if you just _talk_ to him…"

"I thought he was the one, Teej."

"I think he still might be."

"Tina…Trevor had us fooled, too. I mean, we all thought he was the perfect guy for me. He was such a sweetheart…and then…"

"John is _nothing_ like Trevor, Leesie. I'm sure if you just talked to him, you could work things out. If you just tell him…He'll do anything to keep from losing you."

Leesie bit her lip.

"I don't know if I can tell him…"

"Okay, tell me the truth. How do you feel about him?"

"I love him," she said instantly. "I don't want to lose him. But I can't be with him if he's going to make a habit out of causing me bodily harm due to intoxication. I can't be with him if he's going to get drunk all the time. I'm not going to put up with it."

"But you can't really ask him to go straightedge without giving him some sort of explanation."

Leesie sighed.

"I know."

"If he loves you as much as I suspect…he'll take your request into consideration."

The bassist stood and moved to sit on the other bed beside the slumbering Superstar. She brushed a hand lightly across his cheek. He stirred and looked up at her blearily.

"Leesie?" he mumbled, clearly confused.

"It's me," she murmured. "Shhh, go back to sleep."

"I love you."

"I know…" she replied as the words caught in her throat. "I love you, too."

"Lees?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

"I know, Hun. We'll talk when you're feeling better, okay?"

He nodded.

"Hey, Tina, would you mind kindly getting me a water bottle?" To John, Leesie spoke. "It's going to work out…one way or the other."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know, I know," she said softy. "Here…Tina's brought you some water."

As she helped him get a drink, she wondered at how it was she was sitting here taking care of her boyfriend as if he were a child. She shook her head in frustration. Damn her for falling for the drunk… It would have been so much easier if she had looked the other way. Or chosen someone less…prone to solving problems with alcohol.

But she hadn't been able to help it. His smirk had won her over. And when he flashed his dimples, she practically melted inside. She knew it was a bit cheesy. But when she thought of all the moments they'd shared in the past months, she also knew that, somewhere along the line, John Cena had become an irreplaceable part of her life. And she didn't want to lose him, either.

"Are you okay?"

"No, John, I'm not okay."

Even in his half-drunk state, he had the presence of mind to show concern.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing for you to worry about right now. Here…take these."

She dropped a few Aspirin on his tongue and offered him more water.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Been better."

"Me too. Go back to sleep."

"You'll stay?"

"For now," she conceded. "I'll be right here until we can talk."

"Don't go," he said, his voice barely audible.

She didn't have to respond. He was already asleep again. She sat beside him, pulled her knees up to her chest, and proceeded to watch him sleep peacefully. Her thoughts, meanwhile, were nowhere near peaceful.

**~*~**

It was an hour later before John woke again. He clutched his aching head, wincing, and turned to see where Leesie had gone. He turned his head to see her sitting beside him, her eyes swollen. She was staring out the window and hadn't noticed that he was awake.

"Leesie?"

She emitted a small gasp and regarded him.

"You're awake."

"Yeah…and my head is killing me."

"…and coherent."

"Yeah…Look, I'm…what the hell happened to you?"

Confusion filled her face as she wondered what he was talking about. Meanwhile, he stared at the bruise visible between her tank top and shorts. It was clear to her that he was upset, but she wasn't sure why until he spoke again.

"You have a bruise," he said, and reached a hand out to inch her top upward.

She flinched as he brushed her skin. He dropped his hand instantly, but continued to stare her side.

"I know," she said somewhat flatly.

"What happened? Did you fall down the stairs or something?"

She shook her head.

"No…"

He sat up, ignoring the pain this caused his skull, and turned her head toward his. His expression was serious, his eyes stormy.

"Did someone do this to you? Because, I swear…"

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she wiped them away in agitation. This was confirmation enough for John, whose jaw twitched threateningly.

"Who was it?"

"I can't talk to you until you brush your teeth. My God, your breath is atrocious."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you look like someone's beat you."

Her face hardened.

"Fine. You want to know? It was you."

She stood and pulled her tank off before turning around to show him the damage. She heard his sharp intake of breath as he beheld her back, now covered with ugly bruises.

"I didn't--I…"

She pivoted to face him and put the shirt back on.

"Well, you did. That's what happens when you get drunk. You hurt the people you claim to love."

"I couldn't…Leesie, you know I'd never hurt you…"

"But you _did_, John!" she managed, pain evident in her voice. "You were drunk and you didn't mean it, but you did hurt me. I'm sorry, but…you did."

He stared at her a moment longer before burying his face in his hands. At this sight, she cracked.

"I'm so, so sorry…"

"I know…John…please, don't…"

He looked up at her, and the sight of his face brought fresh tears to her eyes.

"What--how?"

"You woke earlier and hugged me so tightly I couldn't breathe."

"I…oh, God…"

He squeezed his eyes shut and moaned in agony. He vaguely remembered the incident she was speaking of. He recalled not wanting to let her go, and begging her to forgive him. The thought that he had hurt her, that those bruises were because of _him, _was too much for him to bear.

"John," she murmured, sitting beside him. "Calm down…It's okay…I know you didn't mean to…we can talk about this."

"I shouldn't still be here," when he looked up at her, his eyes were full of desperation and despair. "I've never--"

"I know. Look…go brush your teeth and take a shower--you smell horrible. I'll be right here when you're done, and then we'll talk."

"I…"

He tried to speak, but couldn't figure out what it was he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize profusely. He wanted to beg her to forgive him. He wanted to leave to avoid causing her any more harm. He wanted to ask if there was anything he could do to fix this. But all those desires were overshadowed by overwhelming self-hate. How could she sit there and calmly ask him to shower, as though he hadn't just _hurt_ her? Why wasn't she shouting at him? He wished she would. He wished she would be angry. He deserved it.

"Just get cleaned up," she said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I just didn't want to let you go."

There was nothing he could do but heed her suggestion.

**~*~**

"He did WHAT?!"

"Rynne…it's fine, I swear."

"It is NOT fine. Do you need us me to come kick some sense into him?"

"No. I'm taking care of it. And I know he didn't mean it…"

"How are you so calm? Leesie, you're not making any sense."

Leesie rolled her eyes, while, a few doors down, Rynne held the phone out to Punk.

"Tell her she's not making any sense."

"Why?"

"The drunken ape hurt her."

"He did _what_?"

Immediately Punk was on his feet. He grabbed the phone.

"What happened?" he asked curtly.

"Punk…it's okay. He didn't mean it--"

"That's what they _always_ say."

"Oh my God. Why do you even _care_?"

"Because I'm the one who left him with you. And because--"

"Phil Brooks. Shut up for a second. Geez, you sound like me, at the rate you're ranting."

"More like Rynne. And don't call me Phil."

"You deserve it. You're ranting and _neither _of you know what happened. And it's cute, but seriously. I don't know why Tina told Rynne…"

"Because they care about you. I can't _believe_…"

"PUNK!" she yelled, because he clearly wasn't listening. "It's not like he slapped me around or anything. I should like to think you know me well enough to know there's no way in _Hell_ I'd put up with that shit from anyone."

"Oh--"

"And _furthermore_, John would never in his life raise a hand to me. _Ever._"

"…Well, good. Because then I'd have to kick his ass."

"Aww, thanks."

"Anytime."

She smiled.

"Can I talk to Rynne now that you're done being insane?"

"Of course."

He handed the phone to Rynne, who looked simultaneously relieved and still pissed.

"So what happened, exactly?"

"He just…hugged me a little too tightly, is all. He was drunk, and he didn't mean to hurt me, and the poor man feels _horrible_ about it. It's really awful, Twinny. If you could see him…it's horrible and I hate it…but at the same time…I can't lose him. I know I've only known him for three months, but…" she swallowed. "I really think he's the one."

"So what're you going to do? You can't let him make a habit of "accidentally" injuring you."

"I know. I know what I'm going to do."

"Good."

"I'm going to need Punk's help with something if John agrees…"

"I'm not volunteering my man for anything scandalous. The ass is distracting, yes, but Punk's mine."

"Oh, stop. It's nothing like that. I promise."

"I'll ask him…"

"Thanks."

"And by the way?"

"Yeah?"

"I think he might be the one, too."

"Wait…are we talking about me and John or you and Punk?"

"…Both."

"Awwww! I think you might just be right."

"Duh, we share a brain, remember?"

Leesie smiled.

"Okay, well, I've got to go…he should be done soon."

"Let us know if you need anything."

"Will do. Bye, Twinny."

"Bye."

She had just set the phone on the bed when he walked out of the bathroom, smelling better--but looking worse--than he had when he'd left. She stood and wrapped her arms around his waist. He stood stiffly. She pulled away, looking up at him sorrowfully.

"John, please don't--"

"I _hurt you!_" he exclaimed brokenly. "That's not okay. Not ever. It doesn't matter that I was drunk. I shouldn't have--"

"John…sweetie, it's okay. Don't beat yourself up over it. I love you, all right? If I thought you were dangerous, I wouldn't be here."

"You _shouldn't_ be. _I _shouldn't be."

He made a move to go, running a hand through his hair in agitation. She reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't be like this. Please. Look, we'll talk about it. It's going to be fine."

"It's _not_--"

"For the love of God. Cut your emo! Do you _want_ me to break up with you? Because you're being so ridiculously _childish_. I get that you feel awful, and it's cute, but seriously. Sit down."

He did so, staring at her in astonishment.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, but with a hint of impatience. "But you weren't listening to me."

She sat across from him.

"Look…there's something I really have to tell you. I've been thinking about telling you for awhile now, but…now I have to. To explain why…"

She tucked her hair behind her ear and continued.

"When I was a little girl, my parents divorced. My mom remarried shortly afterward. I never liked the guy. And…well…" she bit her lip. "He beat her. And I was so scared…so scared for her. And I always wondered why she didn't just leave, but she never did. It only stopped when I grew old enough to tell him that it was _not_ okay and that I didn't have any problem whatsoever calling the cops on his ass."

"Did he ever touch you?"

She looked up, and he wore the same expression he had when asking where she'd gotten the bruise from.

"No. I wouldn't let him. The moment he would've tried, I'd have been out the door, down the street, and on the phone with the police in two minutes. I've never been one to put up with that shit. She eventually divorced him, after he stopped paying the bills and we lost the house…" She swallowed thickly. "I always promised myself that it would never happen to me. And then…And then I met Trevor."

She pulled a pillow into her lap and ran her hands over it absently as she spoke.

"Trev was perfect. Bright blue eyes, jet black hair that fell over one eye…And my God, did he look amazing in skinnies…And he was a musician. His voice was just…phenomenal. But Trevor liked to drink…which, back then, I didn't really have a problem with. But once…he'd been drinking, and…"

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a shuddering breath. When she had composed herself, she looked straight into his blue eyes with her tearful green ones.

"He hit me.

"I was shocked…and I tried to retaliate, but that just made him angrier. He had me half-naked on the bed before my screams managed to get the girls' attention. That night is why I went straightedge."

"Bastard…" he spat, seething. "I hope you pressed charges."

"We couldn't…Joey was in the hotel that night, and he beat him up pretty badly…if we'd pressed charges, Trevor would have done everything in his power to ruin Joey…and us. I guess F4 is a magnet for blackmail…"

"At least somebody got their hands on him…If _I'd _been around back then--"

"You'd be in jail for murder right now. I know. John, that's why you're different from Trevor. That's why you're different from my mother's ex. You can't imagine hurting a woman on purpose, and you beat yourself up over the fact that you hurt me accidentally. You'd _kill_ any man who would lay a hand on me."

"Damn straight. God…I can't believe--"

"I told you I had demons, Hun."

"That you do…"

"But it's okay, because you're not like Trevor. I realized that…it was when Rynne was yelling at me for defending you. You're _not_ like him. I love you."

She took his hand. He wiped the tears from her face with his free hand.

"What…How can I fix this? What can I do?" he questioned imploringly. "I can't lose you."

She took a deep breath.

"You lose control when you drink…That's why you hugged me too tightly. I can't be worrying about you getting wasted and it happening again…So…" she bit her lip, bracing herself for his reaction. "I need you to go straightedge. For me."

"Of course," he said almost instantly.

Her mouth fell open.

"What?"

"I love you. I can't lose you, Leesie. If that's what it takes, I'll quit drinking for you."

"Well…I was planning on you needing coerced. Thanks for making my task less traumatizing."

"Honestly? I'd have agreed to just about anything for you."

She raised a brow.

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"Well, then…" she said seductively, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around his neck, "what do you say we head on over to your room and test that little promise?"

She kissed him. When she pulled away, he smirked up at her. Abruptly, he stood and picked her up--she squeaked in protest.

"I thought you'd never ask."


End file.
